


Formally Kinked

by I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning



Series: Jinnobi Challenge 2018 [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: BDSM, Collared Obi-Wan, Erotica, Everything is Consensual and Happy, Explicit Sexual Content, Formal M/s Dinner, Happy Ending, Jinnobi Challenge, Knighted Obi-Wan, Long Term Sir/slave Power Exchange Relationship, M/M, More Warnings in the Author Note Before, No Angst, Qui-Gon Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 20:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16166426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning/pseuds/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning
Summary: Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan decide to revel in their kinkiness with similar beings for an evening.





	Formally Kinked

**Author's Note:**

> Alright. Extra warnings:
> 
> \- This is a 24/7 power exchange relationship, so Qui-Gon does make life decisions on Obi-Wan's behalf. They are both happy in it, but it is not a peer/peer relationship.  
> \- Consensual slavery, where the slaves/subs enjoy being objectified and have sought out people who will do so while also accepting responsibility for the slave's physical/emotional/psychological wellbeing (24/7 Power Exchange)  
> \- "Public" nakedness (of lower-letter types) (at a party in a private home)  
> \- "Public" sexual availability of lower-letter types (slave/submissive/etc) at that party  
> \- "Public" sex, again, only people who have consented to be at that party will see it  
> \- Consensual voyeurism  
> \- Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan love one another, but Qui-Gon also sexually "uses" other lower-letter types, and Obi-Wan "is used by" other Capital-letter types, as agreed in the rules for this formal kink party. Consensual sexual helplessness.  
> \- Qui-Gon will use a female slave sexually in this story  
> \- Background Bail/Breha with a submissive Bail  
> \- Qui-Gon caned Obi-Wan offscreen before our story starts; Obi-Wan still has the marks  
> \- In the taxi on the way home, Qui-Gon turns a bit maverick and plays with Obi-Wan in a spirit of mischief, to see if Obi-Wan can keep it together and not reveal he's being pleasured to the cabby. (Feel free to disapprove of Qui-Gon in that scene, if you like, or just enjoy it, either way)  
> \- A blowjob in the abandoned hallway outside Obi-Wan & Qui-Gon's apartment, because they can't even get in the door
> 
> What can I say? I wrote madly in love, ridiculously horny, consensual, alive and happy QuiObi. 
> 
> If it turns out you love this particular AU, there is more story information in the author note after.

 

It had been nearly three years since Qui-Gon last took his beloved slave to a formal M/s dinner.

First, there had been Knight Kenobi's extended mission to Mandalore _again_ , and then when he got back, Qui-Gon had been in the middle of trying to gather evidence that a mining corporation was in violation of several of the laws surrounding legacy worlds.

Those three years were as difficult for the Sir as for the slave, and Qui-Gon privately felt Obi-Wan had actually been handling it much better.

Fortunately, they were both  _home._ In two days' time, Obi-Wan's thirty-second birthday was coming up, and they had  _very much_ to catch up on.

There had been another period of separation for them, comparable to this one, when Obi-Wan had been first knighted, seven years earlier. Obi-Wan had spent two years out on his own, with only brief holo discussions with Qui-Gon.

They both had ideas of what they wanted from their relationship, but they had agreed that Obi-Wan needed some time on his own in order to discover exactly who he was apart from Qui-Gon, before they took the step to becoming lovers.

Two years hadn't dimmed either of their ardor, and Obi-Wan had flown back to him, making Qui-Gon wonder just why the Force had been so  _very kind_ to allow such a beautiful-souled man to love him so dearly.

Qui-Gon stepped to the door of their shared apartment. “Time to go, Obi-Wan.”

“Yes, Sir,” Obi-Wan murmured in return, and the words sent the same little sparks through their groins as it had the very first time he'd spoken them.

 

* * *

 

They stood before the door of a very lovely apartment. Obi-Wan had been to this place before for other formal dinners, and he looked forward to the way the thick carpets would feel against his bare toes.

Qui-Gon signaled the bell, and Obi-Wan snuck a glance out of the corner of his eye at his adorable Sir.

The long, silvering hair was worn half-up, with a silver clip to secure the upper half. He wore dark green civilian attire— tailored, and the way it suggested Obi-Wan's Sir's ass brought Obi-Wan happiness— tall black boots, and long black gloves.

Obi-Wan slipped his shoes off and set them beside four other pairs by the door.

Four other Capital/lowercase types, then, whether they used the terms Master and slave, Dominant and submissive, hell, he knew of a couple who used the terms Alpha and omega.

The door slid open, revealing Hostess's slave girl. The dainty silver collar around her neck held a bell that jingled softly as she moved. “You are most welcome, Sir,” she spoke, bowing and stepping out of the way.

Qui-Gon stepped through the doorway without giving her more than a glance, and Obi-Wan followed, two steps behind him.

As the door closed, Qui-Gon turned to Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan  _saw_ it. The change that made his insides shudder with delight and made Obi-Wan's eyes soften with love. There was a distant expression on his Sir's face, and he held himself with such  _dignity_ that it made Obi-Wan proud of him all over again.

“Go help the other slaves in the kitchen.” Ah, the accustomed direction.

Obi-Wan bowed to him. “Yes, Sir.” Since he did not require guidance, the door-opener remained at her post, standing at attention without looking at any of the Capital letter types already sitting around the lovely living room.

 

* * *

 

At this formal a party, Obi-Wan was not allowed to watch his Sir, but Qui-Gon sure watched  _him._ Qui-Gon greeted the other dominant types and shook hands with them, he thanked the hostess with a low bow and a kiss to her hand that had her smiling at him....

But Obi-Wan's sure, barefoot steps to the kitchen held his attention.

He wore a thin tunic of pale blue that fell to mid-thigh, belted at his the middle with a delicate chain, and nothing else but his collar.

While Obi-Wan did not wear it most of the time, they  _had_ chosen to have a collaring ceremony years ago, and just thinking about it would make Qui-Gon's heart throb with near-unbearable happiness again.

Tonight, he might witness Obi-Wan sexually serving another of the individuals seated here, the individuals discussing the latest grav-ball scores. Such were the guide posts for this particular gathering. It had been a while since their last formal dinner, but  _longer_ since one where any of the Capital letter types could direct any of the lowercase types to service them sexually, with the implicit understanding they would obey.

These gatherings weren't open to the public for a reason, after all, and after reviewing the guidelines, anyone who stepped through that door consented to those rules until they left the party.

Qui-Gon rather hoped one of these Masters, some he knew— and oh, there entered another he didn't—  _would_ make use of Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan serving another when he knew his Sir was watching and pleased was sexy as hell.

 

* * *

 

“How can I help?” Obi-Wan asked, surveying the busy lowercase letter types in the kitchen.

There were three so far, and they looked quite overworked. Only one of them actually wore clothes, the other two stark naked but for their collars.

Mirn, a large-boned Mirialan, looked to him and nodded. “Most of the guests will be arriving any minute, and Lussa's full attention will be on the door. The Masters need a bell slave.”

“Alright. Consider it done.” He knew Mirn from the scene in general, though not from a formal dinner. Usually the Hostess and her husband weren't in the same place at the same time, so it was her slave or his at any given event.

_It's nice they can all be together for a change._

Obi-Wan returned to the living room and took up his post in the corner, standing at attention. His gaze stared straight ahead, not looking at any of the Masters, but he kept his peripheral vision watchful for any trouble.

Little bells scattered around the room would be rung if his services were required.

For now, all he need do is be ready.

The first few minutes his mind raced, going over what he knew of the guest list, and going over the guidelines of the evening just one more time, since he  _was_ a bit rusty. The next several minutes consisted of carefully not looking at any of the Masters as more came in and those already present stood up, shook hands, and greeted everyone except for Obi-Wan and Lussa.

The exclusion made Obi-Wan feel that flicker of excitement, and he began to feel his cock remembering why he enjoyed these tiny pockets of almost pure fantasy.

“Slave boy.”

Obi-Wan's head turned in the direction of their Hostess's voice. She was looking at him.

“Disrobe.”

“Yes, your Grace,” Obi-Wan replied, remembering her favored form of address. It took him but a moment to remove the belt and tunic.

He felt the surge of arousal through Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan shivered happily in reaction to it.

The fact that none of the other Masters paid him any attention, now that he was stark naked, didn't matter. In fact, it flipped the next switch in the wonderful little row deep inside of Obi-Wan.

The weight of his precious Sir's collar around his throat was all the clothing he needed, and his lack of significance here— in contrast to his high-stress missions— soothed his soul. So often he had to make decisions that could affect the future well-being of thousands of a planet's inhabitants.

Here, his only job was to do his best to see the Capital types content.

 

* * *

 

He stood there like a god, glorious in his submission.

Qui-Gon put no effort into trying to conceal his own fond gaze, traveling over Obi-Wan's scarred skin. A not-quite-healed cut near his hip made Qui-Gon smile, just a little.

The people here would see it, know that Obi-Wan had earned it by his competent and sexy as hell leadership skills out in the field.

As for how red his ass was, with the lovely cane marks placed at exact intervals...

_Those_ they would know he received from Qui-Gon.

He bore all of his marks with pride and a silent grace.

Qui-Gon felt himself hardening still further in his pants.

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan did not assist in carrying the truly impressive meal out to the long dining hall, since he was on bell duty.

But the collection of a dozen slaves— now that everyone had arrived— were fully capable of it. Most of them were either fully naked or very nearly, but Bail— precious Bail— had been clothed by Breha, and Breha preferred her submissive to be fully clad at all times in public. Even when he was being used sexually.

Obi-Wan watched out of the whole range of his field of vision as the lowercase letter types carried in platters and set them on the table, announcing what they were, and exuding into the Force delight, pride, and anticipation.

They had worked hard, taken risks, prepared for this  _long_ in advance.

The Capital letter types took to their dinner with a very formal grace, while some of the slaves remained in the kitchen, and others knelt by their respective Dominant person's feet.

Obi-Wan sensed little spikes of pleasure from each whenever one of the Individuals eating at the table complimented the Hostess and her husband on the quality and presentation of the food.

They had impressed and delighted, and dear  _Force_ did it feel good.

“Lovely Obi-Wan,” their Hostess spoke up. “You have a new scar low on your back. Do tell us how it was earned, and show us that well-caned ass of yours.”

Obi-Wan kept his delighted smile within instead of allowing it out. He turned around to display both scar and caning.

Murmurs of appreciation and praise aimed for Qui-Gon filled Obi-Wan's ears, and it trembled through him with yet another quiet wash of pleasure.

“Qui-Gon, your strikes are always so artistic,” Hostess chuckled appreciatively. “And your boy is so very delicious. Slave Kenobi, turn around again so we can see your mouth while you tell us your tale.”

Obi-Wan obeyed, and began to speak.

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan had a natural gift for storytelling, but it had only become truly a thing of beauty after he'd spent time and effort honing it.

Qui-Gon had asked him to, enjoying the cadence of his voice and the way his eyes sparkled in the telling.

Qui-Gon listened now, feeling proud because Obi-Wan's well-honed skill reflected well on Qui-Gon himself. Obi-Wan exerted himself to please, and he certainly did.

He did not extend his story, it was short and humorous, leaving the table laughing and the slaves at feet biting lips and grinning, trying not to giggle.

Obi-Wan was so comfortable in his skin, and his cock was half erect without anyone having touched him or even flirted, really.

Qui-Gon could sense his warm content and enjoyment, and knowing his beautiful Obi-Wan was happy made Qui-Gon's evening absolutely exquisite.

Somehow, Qui-Gon made it through dessert before his need for Obi-Wan became a bit much.

Qui-Gon knew the entire room could see, perhaps even  _feel_ the electricity between them. The desire.

So when everyone adjourned to the living room except for the slaves who took care of clearing away and washing the dishes, Qui-Gon decided to give a little show of his own.

It had been a while since he and Obi-Wan had a chance to be involved in a scene function, and damn if Qui-Gon didn't have every intention of demonstrating just how beautifully submissive his Obi-Wan truly was.

When Qui-Gon opened his pants, everyone expected him to call Obi-Wan to him.

Instead, he placed his hand on the elbow of a passing slave.

She turned to him, immediate and attentive to see what he wanted, and he swiped his fingers between her nether lips to see if she was wet enough for his purposes.

Probably, he determined, both feeling and sensing her satisfaction from the mere act of serving for the last hour. Still, after Qui-Gon drew her down onto his lap, he fingered her clit just a bit for good measure.

She arched happily, and when Qui-Gon guided her ass up a bit and then pulled down firmly on her hip, the blue Twi'lek sank onto his cock, clear to the hilt.

Qui-Gon could sense the choked reaction in the Force of Obi-Wan, though the slave gave no outward sign of distress.

_You want to be the one here, pleasuring me._

Qui-Gon did not look at him, and he could feel the longing building up in Obi-Wan as Qui-Gon simply guided the slave in his lap to just hold still, sheath only giving its instinctive caressing, but nothing intentional.

He had no intention of coming, just yet.

“Well,” drawled the Hostess, “in  _that_ case, be a dear, Obi-Wan, and put your mouth to work.”

Qui-Gon felt his own cock react, and the knowing mirth in the Force emanating from the slave he currently occupied told him she noticed as well, and understood.

Qui-Gon traced her lovely skin with his thumb, watching as Obi-Wan knelt before the Hostess and lowered his head between her thighs as she held up her skirts.

Obi-Wan brought her off with his tongue alone, and no sooner had he stood, than another of the Masters beckoned him over, and had him please them with mouth or hands or both.

One fripped his thighs, and came on them, and Qui-Gon's fingers tightened against his cockwarmer's hips as he found the image so terribly arousing.

Only after everyone who wanted him was done with him, did Qui-Gon guide the Twi'lek slave off his lap, smiling as her body twitched with unfulfilled need.

Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan's surprise and delight at seeing that Qui-Gon  _hadn't_ completed himself with her, that there was still room for him—

 

* * *  
  


Oh, Sir had been just a little sadistic this evening, watching as Obi-Wan pleasured everyone  _but_ the king of his heart.

Obi-Wan wanted to give his body to his Sir, for everyone to see. It wouldn't be the first time of course, but he wanted to  _again._

For a long moment Obi-Wan wondered if Qui-Gon would make him wait until they arrived back home...

But then Qui-Gon beckoned to him, and Obi-Wan moved to him with delight and gratitude.

He would have obeyed without pout had Qui-Gon chosen to not use him during this party...

But  _Force alive_ was he glad not to face that trial!

 

* * *

 

Qui-Gon had Obi-Wan sit on his lap, the smaller back pressed to Qui-Gon's chest. Qui-Gon put a possessive hand over his cock and gently passed his thumb against its fully-erect surface.

“You will not come here,” Qui-Gon murmured in his ear, his hair falling forward to tickle Obi-Wan's shoulder.

The younger man trembled as he whispered, “Yes, Sir.”

Qui-Gon moved him a bit to get him situated for what best suited his purpose, guiding Obi-Wan to lean forward so Qui-Gon had better access to the cleft between Obi-Wan's buttocks.

Qui-Gon's shaft, pinned between his own clothed belly and Obi-Wan's ass, was still slick with the Twi'lek's wetness.

A soft groan escaped Obi-Wan's lips as he reveled in the eroticism of the thought.

Qui-Gon smiled, and then proceeded to relieve himself by simply rubbing against Obi-Wan's ass.

Again, that spark of regret, of  _desire_ from Obi-Wan. He wanted Qui-Gon  _in_ him, mouth or ass—

And again he submitted.

Qui-Gon swallowed a groan of his own at the beautiful gift, and rubbed his hand over the expanse of Obi-Wan's back as Obi-Wan clung to the couch edge to keep from falling off.

To help him, Qui-Gon placed his hands on his younger lover's hips and pulled him back.

Obi-Wan shuddered again, and it was only through a breathing shift that Qui-Gon recognized that he kept from coming right there, his own cock trapped between his belly and Qui-Gon's thighs.

Qui-Gon bounced his thigh once, a tap of pressure against Obi-Wan's cock, and the slave mewled in delight and ache at once.

“Alright,” Qui-Gon rasped when he felt himself close, “make sure I don't leave a mess on this fine couch.”

Obi-Wan was on his knees on the floor in a heartbeat, eager lips closing over Qui-Gon's cock and eyes— blurred with lust and subspace— lifting to his as Obi-Wan reached one finger to just lightly brush Qui-Gon's balls.

Qui-Gon came into his mouth, and Obi-Wan happily suckled him dry, and continued nursing his cock long after it had fully returned to its wrinkled, resting state. Obi-Wan lapped at it and nosed it and caressed it though they both knew that at Qui-Gon's age, he wouldn't be ready for another go for several hours.

Qui-Gon allowed it until the over-stimulation became too much, and then he let Obi-Wan kneel on the floor by his feet while he finished a conversation with another Dominant that had been started over dinner, and interrupted by the pleasurable proceedings.

The chrono chimed all too soon, and Qui-Gon called over the Twi'lek one last time.

Using his fingers, he lightly frigged her to completion right above where Obi-Wan knelt, and then he took his leave of those gathered there— but only the Dominants.

 

* * *

 

Oh, Qui-Gon had been a dreadful tease, and  _feeling_ another slave find completion even while he knelt  _right_ at his Sir's feet had been difficult as hell to bear.

When Qui-Gon wrapped his cloak around Obi-Wan, ordering him not to put back on his tunic, and then flagged down a cab, Obi-Wan knew the torment was not about to end soon.

Endurance...

_Endurance, Obi-Wan._

 

* * *

 

Oh, Obi-Wan knew.

And while he dreaded the test of his own control, he also leaked anticipation.

In the shadowed back of the cab, as the driver piloted them through Coruscant's busy traffic, Qui-Gon's hand slipped beneath the concealing brown fabric to palm his slave's erection.

Obi-Wan bit his lip, the the gesture beautiful and glistening in the sparkling lights outside the window. Qui-Gon fondled his balls, then squeezed them, squeezed his thigh, even left small pinches along the inside of the thigh closest to him that would leave marks and small bruises.

Shock and delight poured through their bond from Obi-Wan's side, incredible desire and such beautiful,  _exact_ control over his own body to keep his breathing quiet, to make no noises, to look out his window without allowing any of Qui-Gon's torments to touch his face's expressions.

Qui-Gon kept up his cruel and so welcomed ministrations until the cabbie dropped them off at the Temple.

Then followed a scurrying through hallways and up stairs, with hearts thundering with anticipation.

They didn't quite make it to their rooms.

Qui-Gon shoved Obi-Wan up against the wall beside their door, and dropped to his knees, taking in Obi-Wan's leaking, tormented cock.

Obi-Wan choked aloud, and his hands sank into Qui-Gon's hair.

He didn't tug, though. No.

Qui-Gon was not submitting to him, though he  _was_ bringing him very rapidly to orgasm.

Obi-Wan came, quiet except for his heaving breath, and limp enough he could barely stand. He was so deep in the subspace, and the sex had loosened his muscles enough that Qui-Gon decided to scoop him up bridal-style, and carried him into their rooms and to bed.

And the best part?

Obi-Wan didn't make a hint of protest to Qui-Gon's carrying him.

 

* * *

 

Qui-Gon cleaned them both up, careful not to force Obi-Wan out of his subspace early.

Obi-Wan wasn't even entirely aware of the process, until he was lying in bed beside Qui-Gon, loving the warm hand on his hip, and staring into those wonderful blue eyes gazing into his own.

Obi-Wan felt sated, heart and body, and his hand came up to caress Qui-Gon's cheek, feeling so incredibly  _loved_ as those eyes treasured him and Qui-Gon leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan fell into a deep sleep with the swiftness of a being without a care in the universe.

Qui-Gon watched him for a while, feeling so incredibly grateful for this, for them.

Pressing one last kiss to his slave's forehead, Qui-Gon allowed himself to find sleep as well, looking forward to the moment when they would awake in one another's arms to face another day of whatever they might want to do with their leave time.

Qui-Gon foresaw a lot of sex in their near future.

A  _lot_ of sex. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> For those curious, I have more background thought out for this particular AU that didn't quite make it into the story, but here it is if you're interested.
> 
> This Qui-Gon & Obi-Wan do live in a 24/7 power exchange relationship. Qui-Gon decides where they go on vacation, when they have sex, what skills he wants Obi-Wan to learn/hone, how much clothing Obi-Wan wears when in the privacy of home, who Obi-Wan has sex with. Obi-Wan's health and happiness are Qui-Gon's responsibility. While Qui-Gon is considerate and would take into consideration Obi-Wan's preferences on any matter, Qui-Gon still ultimately makes the decisions.
> 
> Obi-Wan's work life is something separate. How Obi-Wan completes his missions, and which missions he takes, is all Obi-Wan's prerogative. If Obi-Wan took a padawan, Qui-Gon would not have or assume authority over how Obi-Wan trained/raised said padawan. The padawan would likely become aware that Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were in a sexual and romantic relationship, but the power exchange aspect is something they keep quiet, because they hold to the viewpoint that the average vanilla walking around has not consented to being in a space where kink is clearly happening. Obi-Wan's collar would be hidden at all times in the presence of those not comfortable with it, or not worn at all in that case.
> 
> If the padawan noticed strange bruises while training and grew concerned, Obi-Wan would be likely to explain it as a penchant for “rough sex,” and let it go at that.
> 
> All that being said, I have no intention at this time of writing a sequel for this AU, though the brain sparkles are fickle beasts, and may change their minds in response to random factors I cannot control.


End file.
